


You're out

by pitterpatterpot



Category: Final Space (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Family Feels, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-26 17:50:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20934272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pitterpatterpot/pseuds/pitterpatterpot
Summary: They float through Final Space, following Bolo.They all still feel the effects of what happened.Avocato comes closer to understanding just what his son's been through.





	You're out

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warnings. This does feature stressed relations and Little Cato has been through a lot. This does feature anxiety and PTSD.

_(Strike one)_

“Pass me the goddamn gun!” Avocato growls.

“It’s my arm!” Fox screeches, gesturing wildly.

“We are under attack!”

Fox edges away, voice growing uncertain at the gleam in Avocato’s eyes. “It’s probably just turbulence?”

“Do you not see the giant ass titans fighting each other outside?” Avocato cries incredulously, gesturing out the windows.

“Bolo’s taking care of it!” Sheryl snaps over her shoulder, piloting the ship through the debris. “There ain’t no way in hell we’re getting involved in that!”

Avocato winces, having to agree. Seeing Bolo wrestle with another Titan, one so obviously corrupted by Invictus, grapples with Bolo. Its name may be Jen or Jill or something. Avocato wasn’t really listening, though it does seem as though there’s some kind of personal vendetta involved. Gary told him not to worry about it.

“Could everyone stop talking about guns and focus please!” Tribore gestures wildly to the weapons. “Someone go work the weapons!”

_“Got it!”_

Both Avocato and Little Cato freeze, looking at each other. Everyone else seems to wince. HUE looks between them.

“Gary, this is an awkward moment, yes?”

_“Oh my god HUE, yes.”_

“Uh,” Little Cato’s eyes dart away. “I usually man the torrent-“

“Right, of course,” Avocato gives his son the thumbs up. “Go get ‘em, son.”

Little Cato hesitates, throwing a look over his shoulder and smiling at his father before running off. Avocato feels the back of his neck itch, lifting a paw to rub at it as he turns back around.

To find everyone staring at him, Gary grinning widely.

  
“What?” Avocato narrows his eyes.

They all look away, Gary still grinning.

The battle lasts for what feels like years, yet it’s only hours. The stress and ache of it nearly brings them all to their knees, even Little Cato no longer shouting for joy by the time he’s finished with shooting. Fox and Ash collapse against a wall together, Sheryl leaning back in the pilots seat with her eyes closed and Gary and Quinn leaning against the consoles. Avocato himself is also sitting in a chair, head in his hands and tired from navigating.

“Hey,” Little Cato croaks, stumbling into the room. “So… Bolo won?”

“We’re still alive, so I guess?” Gary swallows, voice rough. “Bolo said we just gotta… float around until we run into the next titan.”

Everyone groans and whines at that, the idea of another attack coming without warning setting their nerves on fire.

  
“So I guess we’re sleeping in shifts again,” Avocato groans, rubbing at his eyes. “I’ll take first watch.”

“Thanks, man,” Gary gives him a tired smile, standing and making his way for the door. “Just set off an alarm or scream if something happens.”

“Got it,” Avocato nods, taking over at the pilot seat, Sheryl giving him a nod as he does so.

Everyone troops out of the room, none of the usual chatter as they do so. The quiet is the most disheartening thing, their jokes and quips nothing but empty voids. Sighing, Avocato sinks back in the seat, his arms still trembling and back aching. That’s what happens when you grip things too tightly, when you hold a position for hours.

“Dad?”

Avocato’s ears twitch at the sound, his entire body immediately turning. “Hey, son. Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping?”

Little Cato stands in the doorway, clearly exhausted and dishevelled. Swallowing, Little Cato troops forward, sitting behind one of the consoles.

“Son-“

“You probably need a co-pilot,” Little Cato shrugs. “We don’t know what’s out there.”

Avocato can’t argue with that logic, no matter how much he wishes he could. “Alright, but as soon as someone comes to take over we’re both going to grab some shut eye.”

They settle into silence, Little Cato tapping away at the screen as Avocato directs them to follow Bolo. They bob along, pushing dead Gary’s aside as they do so.

“So…”

Avocato blinks at Little Cato’s voice, alarmed at how easy it was for his mind to drift. “Yes?”

“Are you feeling alright?” Little Cato looks down, biting his lip. “You know, after seeing Invictus.”

Puffing out a breath, Avocato shakes his head. “I’m fine. I honestly don’t remember anything.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

“Right, so,” Little Cato edges towards Avocato, eyeing his stomach. “Do you - I mean - are you hurt? From when you were Invictus? Gary was covered in bruises and had, like, three broken bones-“

“Oh,” Avocato releases the controls, settling back. “I didn’t wake up with any, but I have some new scars under my fur on my stomach. I guess Invictus healed my body as fast as he could when he was using me.”

Little Cato sucks in a small breath, ears folding down as he hunches in on himself. Avocato sits straighter at the change, at the shorter breaths escaping his son.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” Avocato pulls Little Cato into his arms, alarmed. “Son? Little Cato, I’m fine. I healed fast.”

“Gary didn’t,” Little Cato’s muffled voice shakes.

Avocato winces. Right. From when he shot Gary. God, from when he nearly shot his son. He could have done it. Maybe Invictus just decided Little Cato wasn’t a threat.   
  
“I’m so glad I didn’t shoot you,” Avocato mutters, burying his head against Little Cato. “I wouldn’t be able to handle it if I did, even if it wasn’t my choice.”

“Um, right,” Little Cato suddenly pushes back, not meeting Avocato’s eyes, mouth trembling. “I’m gonna - I think I need some sleep. I’ll go get Sheryl to take over or something.”

  
“Little Cato-“ Avocato reaches out, but his son is already running out of the room.

__________________

_(Strike two)_

Maintenance is important. Polishing, recharging, loading. All of these things are necessary if you want your gun to be functional. It’s a rhythm at this point, to tear apart the small or large machines and do what needs to be done before fluidly placing them back together. It’s muscle memory, ingrained in Avocato after years of practice.

“Hey, man! How’s it going?”

Then there are new habits. Like reaching an arm out to clasp hands with Gary. The human instantly grins, plopping down on the bench next to Avocato, kicking his legs out.

“You look happy,” Avocato observes, setting a finished gun to the side.

“Heck yeah!” Gary punches his arms out. “We got Quinn back! And it’s been, like, a solid week since my mom’s tried to kill me!”

Avocato chuckles, picking up another weapon and dipping the cloth in polish. “That’s great. But you do remember that we’re basically in a hell dimension, right?”

“Eh, we’ll get through it,” Gary grins, resting back. “How are you holding up?”

“Fine,” Avocato shrugs. “I just… is Little Cato alright?”

“Yeah?” Gary hesitates, brows bunching. “Maybe? Now that the adrenalines worn of I think the shock is kind of setting in.”

“Right,” Avocato eyes Gary. “You sure you’re not still riding on that adrenaline?”

That smile fades slightly. “Maybe? I don’t think so,” that smile springs back into place. “Little Cato’s probably just shocked to have both is dad’s together!”

“Right,” Avocato chuckles. “That whole ‘adoption’ thing.”

“Are you… cool with it?” Gary grimaces slightly. “I mean, I was sort of just supposed to be a rental dad and-“

“Gary, no, of course I’m fine with it,” Avocato lightly punches him in the shoulder. “I never wanted Little Cato to be an orphan and you’re the only one I trust with him. You’re a fantastic father to him.”

Gary releases a long breath. “Thanks, that means… a lot, actually. Sometimes I worry I’m not really doing the right thing.”

“Welcome to being a parent,” Avocato snorts. “It’s basically that mixes with general worry twenty-four seven. Want me to polish your gun?”

He’d be an idiot not to notice the way Gary’s back stiffens slightly, his finger freezing at his holster. That smile disappears completely, eyes darkening as Gary leans away slightly.  
  
“Gary?” Avocato frowns. “You alright?”

Something snaps at that, Gary’s eyes flicking to Avocato. Relief is there, pure relief, but the smile is still gone.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Gary stands, grimacing slightly. “I might just go see if Mom needs any help on the bridge.”

“I’m sorry I shot you,” Avocato’s voice is a quiet rumble.

Freezing, Gary whirls around, eyes wide. “Aw, jeez, Avocato no. You didn’t- I mean- _I_ don’t even remember what I did when I was possessed. I don’t remember fighting you or Little Cato or anything. I get it, you weren’t _you_.”

Breathing out a shaky sigh, Avocato looks down at his hands. “Little Cato is afraid of me.”

Gary slowly sits back down. “I- look. I don’t think he’s afraid of you. A lot of messed up stuff happened while you were away. From all the fighting to getting the keys to the sixty years in that weird time zone-“

“What?” Avocato goes rigid. “Sixty years in _what?”_

All colour leaves Gary’s skin, the human swallowing. “The ship collided with a time shard. The rest of us were trapped on one side while Little Cato was on the other. It was- AVA said that time accelerated on his side. That he was trapped there for sixty years.”

Slowly, Avocato curls in on himself, placing his head in his heads.

“Avocato? Yeah, it’s bad. Like, really bad-“

_“Sixty years,” _Avocato chokes the words. “My son spent sixty years alone. How could he have handled that?”

Once again, Gary winces. “Uh, he kind of didn’t? From what he told me he went a little… insane?”

“How insane?” Avocato looks up.

“Like… major hallucinations for years and imagining his own death insane?” Gary swallows again, looking away. “The kid… he doesn’t talk about it, but when he does it’s pretty… I don’t know. I don’t think everything in his head came back right. Especially since he remembers it all.”

A thought occurs to Avocato. “Is he even still a child?”

“I think he wants to be,” Gary looks down. “I think he’s trying to be? I don’t know. I wished he talked about it more but if we push he just… it’s like he just turns off.”

“Right,” Avocato places the gun down. “Of course he does.”

“You alright?”

“No. I’m not.”

__________________

_(Strike three)_

Avocato rolls his shoulders, sighing through his nose. He pointedly looks away from the windows and all of the, christ, all of the _dead Gary’s _floating around in the infinite abyss of what he assumes is just another version of hell.

God, no wonder Quinn is still held up in the infirmary. Avocato would be too after spending months alone in… this.

Speaking of spending a horribly long amount of time in a horrific environment... He needs to speak to Little Cato. Gary’s explanations were brief at best, but Avocato has no doubt that his son must still be shaken from his time in that strange… time split. When he was on the other side. 

“Uh... mister Avocato, sir?”

Stiffening, the Ventrexian turns around, eyes narrowing and claws unsheathing. “Tryvuulian.”

Muttering, Fox steps forward, eyeing Avocato with slight distaste. “Really are his dad, huh?”

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing,” Fox edges forward, wedging himself between Avocato and the bedroom door. “So, uh, whatcha doing?”

“I’m going to see my son,” Avocato crosses his arm, eyes narrowing. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“Little Cato’s doing repairs by the airlock,” Fox shifts on his feet. “You’ll find him there.”

“Thank you,” Avocato pivots around, stomping off.

“You’re not gonna hurt him, right?”

Avocato freezes, turning around. “What?”

Fox hesitates. “I just-“

“He’s my son,” Avocato snaps, hands curling into fists. “I need to make sure he’s alright after whatever the hell happened while I was gone!”

“Right,” Fox looks away. “Sorry, yeah.”

Swallowing down a growl, Avocato marches towards the airlock. Once he arrives it’s easy to spot Little Cato fixing a panel, tools strewn around him.

Just seeing his son sitting there, humming to himself, steals all the breath from Avocato’s lungs. _There_. His son is _there_ and _safe_. Well, as safe as he can be in such a dimension.

Smiling, Avocato walls forward and places a hand on Little Cato’s shoulder.

“Hey!” Little Cato beams, turning. “I was-“

It takes a moment for the orange Ventrexian’s mouth to go slack, eyes widening and hand grasping the screwdriver. Barking a curse, Avocato raises his arm to grab the fist hurtling towards him, the screwdriver aimed for his face.

“Little Cato! Avocato growls, pinning his son down by his shoulders. “What the hell are-“

“_NO!”_

Avocato pauses, flinching back and ears flattening. Little Cato squirms underneath him, sobbing and bucking to get free.

_“No no no no no no-“_

“Son?” Avocato stands and moves back a step, hands still reaching towards Little Cato.

“GO AWAY!” Little Cato growls, scrambling back against the wall and breathing rapidly. “Y-you’re not, you’re not going to, I’m not-“

Creeping forward, Avocato keeps his palm raised. “It’s just me. It’s me, Little Cato. Everything’s alright.”

Eventually he comes close enough to sit beside Little Cato, hands firmly grasped in his lap as Little Cato sobs in a ball. Avocato swallows thickly, trying to look at his son’s face. Once the sobbing begins to die down he reaches out, placing his hand in Little Cato’s shoulder. He keeps his grasp firm, relieved when his son tips to lean against his side. Little Cato hiccups, pressing against his father as Avocato begins to rub circles on his back.

“Are you alright?” Avocato wraps his arm tighter around his son.

“Yeah,” Little Cato breathes in deeply, rubbing at his eyes. “Yeah, Sorry.”

Avocato frowns as Little Cato leans away. “Son, what was that?”

“You just scared me,” Little Cato drags in a shaky breath. “I’ve been on edge, sorry.”

“No.”

Little Cato blinks. “What?”

“You were afraid of me,” Avocato frowns, settling back against the wall. “When I was- what did I do to you, while I wasn’t myself?”

While he was possessed. He still can’t fully believe it.

Back from the dead only to be controlled by a devil.

“I know that Invictus made me shoot Gary,” Avocato can barely keep his voice steady. “And that I shot at you while I was chasing you. I’m so sorry, so sorry that you had to go through that. Was there _anything_ else I did? Any other way I hurt you?”

“You, uh,” Little Cato rubs at one eye, hiccuping as he looks down. “Dad? You- you love me, right?”

Avocato blinks. “What?”

“Love me,” Little Cato’s voice shakes dangerously. “Do you love me?”

“Of course I do,” Avocato frowns. “Why would you-“

“You never said it,” Little Cato gasps out the words, curling up tighter. “You never said and you said- and you-“

Nearly trembling himself, Avocato gathers Little Cato in his arms and pulls the boy into his lap.

“You tried to kill me,” Little Cato says, voice small and weak. “When Invictus was in control. And you shot Gary and said I wasn’t your son and that I was weak and you were going to find me and kill me and-“

“That was Invictus,” Avocato pushes down a growl, slamming it back into the pot of his stomach. “I _never_ would have said or done those things, I swear.”

“Were you gonna to do it?” Little Cato whispers, ears bent and body shaking. “When you- when you took me there, to that- you knew the Lord Commander wanted you to shoot me. Were you actually gonna do it?”

A terrible father. He had been a _terrible father._

Avocato squeezes Little Cato closer. His son sobs.

“Why did you take me there?” Little Cato pushes against his father, pounding at his chest. “I trusted you! You walked me there and were gonna- you were-“

“I know,” rasping, Avocato squeezes his eyes shut. “I know. I’m so sorry.”

“_Why?”_ Little Cato shudders against his father._ “What did I do wrong?”_

_“Nothing,” _Avocato growls. “None of it was-“

“_I couldn’t even fix a freaking ship after sixty years!_” Little Cato hisses. “I can’t do anything! I’m always _losing!_”

That last word cracks at Avocato’s heart. He pulls his son tight against him, both of them shaking. It seems like forever before Little Cato quietens down, growing slack in Avocato’s arms. The older Ventrexian closes his eyes, resting his head against the wall as he thinks over his son’s words.

What the hell happened?

_What did he do?_

“I’m sorry,” Avocato croaks, eyes squeezed shut. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I messed up so bad.”

“I thought I killed you,” Little Cato whispers, covering his face.

“What?”

“I shot you,” Little Cato rasps, shaking and not meeting Avocato’s eye. “When you were going to kill Gary. I shot you. I thought I killed you.”

All sound empties Avocato’s head. It takes a moment, then another, for him to start breathing again. His shoulders unwind and he tips his head back once again. The scar on his torso. Little Cato’s questions. Everyone’s strange avoidance when it comes to guns around his and Little Cato. Him shooting Gary he can understand. Of course his son would be traumatised from that.

But Little Cato shooting him?

His own father?

The kid can barely even handle lying. How much guilt from shooting his own, possessed father is weighing his son down?

“I’m glad you did,” Avocato noses the top of Little Cato’s head. “I’d rather you shoot me than I shoot you.”

Little Cato hiccups, shaking his head. “I _hate_ this. _I hate all of this so much.”_

“I know,” Avocato screws his eyes shut. “So do I.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
